The last two days of my father's life
he mumbled to himself over the hiss
of the oxygen tank.
Breathlessly.
Frantically.
Eyelids lowered like windowshades,
pulled tight against that encroaching storm.
It's possible he was talking to angels,
messengers from another world come to claim him.
Perhaps old ghosts from his past, but
I'd like to think, at least part of that time,
he was recalling how my mother's hair
moved in the breeze when he first met her,
how pleased he was on the day
I crooned 'da da', the taste of fried green tomatoes
shared round our table late on a fall evening.
At the end of the second day,
I lay my head on his chest,
strained for one last glimpse into his eyes.
The shade finally fluttered.
For that second,
that one halleluja chorus second,
he saw me.
A tear slid down his cheek to my hand.
A baptism of sorts.
A christening.
A blessing of our time here on earth together.
A goodbye.
13 comments:
Beautiful tribute/beautiful goodbye.
This one made me cry! It might've been my dad and me, right down to the fried green tomatoes.... Thank you
Pat, thank you..and Pepe, those nights were special eating fried green tomatoes with my father. My mother didn't esp like them, so on my visits, we'd go into the kitchen before bed, pull down the cast iron skillet, and he'd always make them. He loved to cook certain things and this was one. Your dad sounds really special!
this is beautiful
Thank you, and welcome to my blog!
oh, this is a beautiful, moving poem and a great tribute to your dad!
Thanks, polona!
Oh this is just beautiful, Pris.
beautiful tribute - i am going after kleenex.....
All of you, thank you so much. My father was so special to me. I'm glad I was with him when he died. It'll be 20 years this Christmas.
Moving and beautiful tribute to the bond between father and daughter.
Pris, you walk such a sure poetic line, full of feeling but never sentimental; you enlarge our world with each new poem. Thank you.
Natalia and g, thank you!
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